May I Have This Dance?
by Kei the Average
Summary: "Forget them," I said. "It's only a dance." A night out from Haddock's point of view. Haddotin.


A/N: Getting back in the swing of things slowly but surely, folks! I haven't been able to truly finish anything for the longest time due to my demanding college writing course sucking my inspiration well dry and for other personal endeavors (and also, admittedly, procrastination).

P.S. If you've got some lively ballroom waltzing music lying around, I'd recommend it while reading this fic. Enjoy!

**xoxoxo**

Every time I hear that song I remember that night…

That little scuffle in India had done us in. We had been chased around, shot at, driven off a cliff and left for dead—it was a miracle that we had gotten out of the ordeal alive—and we were both at the end of our tethers. There was nothing the both of us wanted more than to go home and take a well-deserved rest.

But an old friend of yours was throwing a big party that night, and wanted us to come as honored guests. I would have declined had you not insisted that it was the only polite thing to do. I sighed and reluctantly I decided it wouldn't hurt to stay one more night so long as the chaos was over. But really, I just didn't want to leave you on your own again. _What if _they_ came back and tried to hurt you?_ I thought in secret. Like hell I'd ever let that happen, not after all that hullaballoo.

We covered our bruises in button-up shirts and jackets and pants, putting on our best faces and made our way into that brightly decorated ballroom. Music from a big orchestra in the back of the room was playing. While the perimeter of the room was filled with folks chewing fat with one another, or sampling the many wines being served—which I had just barely managed enough willpower to not be one of them—or eating, the center of the room was left rather bare.

I saw you standing beside me, bored out of your mind. You looked at the dance floor with a longing sort of look in your eye. We exchanged a glance, and I knew what was holding you back. At that time, we had kept the true extent of our relationship hush-hush to most, save for our closest of friends. You said nothing, but your eyes were asking me _Will they look at us? Will they care?_

I knew in that moment that I couldn't stand by and let you indulge in a cowardice that was too ill-fitted for someone like you. That next song gave me the courage that you were lacking, the strings of the violin pulling me closer, and I held my hand out to you. An expression of shock crossed your features and you drew back slightly from me. But I persisted, keeping my hand out. Reluctantly you grabbed it, and I pulled you towards me.

It did not start out as much. Holding each other at arm's length and barely swaying at the edge of the floor, we looked like two shy middle school students at a homecoming dance. But as that music built up, and when you saw that no one was looking, you dared to pull yourself closer to me. We were gently twirling now, and slowly the edge was getting farther and farther away.

Neither of us were aware at the time, though. It wasn't until you took your gaze off of me, and you were now looking frantically around for any disappointing glances from the other guests. But I did not loosen my grip on your waist and we continued to spin in the middle of the dance floor. Forget them, I said, It's only a dance. And with time you started to loosen up as well; you even began to smile. Our strides grew longer and were getting less stiff. That's when, in the corner of my eye, I saw your friend and his wife begin to approach us. We both stopped what we were doing, waiting for him to call our conduct disgraceful and kick us out.

But he merely put his arm around his wife's waist, taking her hand with his other and told us to please continue before they too broke out into a playful waltz.

Seeing the maharajah and his wife dancing seemed to instill confidence in those standing in the perimeters. Soon they and their partners were twirling around as well. Eventually the floor was filled now with people dancing merrily around us.

We looked at each other for a moment, contemplating whether to stay or go while we still could. Instead, you eagerly took me by the hands then and pulled me into another round of gallant waltzes with the rest of the crowd. At the end of the dance, you kissed me, and I could feel your wide smile. Whatever fears you initially had were gone now, and I smiled, thinking _Ah, there's the you I know and love best._ We danced for the rest of that party, and not one person said anything against us for doing so.

We left later than we had expected, and didn't check into our hotel room until the wee hours of the morning. But time was irrelevant in that moment. All I could think about was you and how lovely you looked as you excitedly unbuttoned your shirt, throwing yourself at me to kiss again. Our kisses had soon evolved from gentle pecks to a hard, passionate, lip-swelling frenzy. And as I entered you, you fell apart in my arms, practically wailing, your nails clawing into my skin, afraid to let go. I left not one square inch of your skin go unkissed, no part of you left unexplored with hands or tongue. When it was all over we collapsed into bed and dreamed of home and each other.

. . .

And now as that same song begins to play on the radio tonight at home, we both look at each other in surprise as the memories come flooding back. You smile playfully and stand up out of your chair. Walking towards me you hold your hand out and you say the words:

"May I have this dance?"

**xoxoxo**

A/N: I've always wanted to write a story where Tintin and Haddock go dancing, but up until now I've had the hardest time getting it started. This fic has two varied inspirations—the first being the song "The End" by Macklemore x Ryan Lewis, the second being the wedding dance scene from Fiddler on the Roof.


End file.
